


if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms

by lookatallthemoresigive



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Beds, F/F, Hotels, Inspired by Suite Life, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-03 15:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15821922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookatallthemoresigive/pseuds/lookatallthemoresigive
Summary: As far as summer jobs go, Laura's is pretty boring, working the candy counter of her small town's only hotel.That is, until Carmilla Karnstein, heir to The Morgan hospitality empire, comes to stay as a permanent guest.





	if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms

**Author's Note:**

> This was specifically inspired by the Suite Life episode "Poor Little Rich Girl" and how robbed we all were, but no prior knowledge of the show is needed.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Working the candy counter in the lobby of The Morgan hotel is probably not the stepping stone that will catapult Laura Hollis towards winning her first Pulitzer, but at least it's out of the house and money towards college.

Her father, after lecturing for hours on the dangers of elevators and making her promise to keep a can of bear spray with her at all times, finally agrees to let her do it.

Since she lives in a quintessential small town, the job is pretty boring, with none too many guests.

That is until Carmilla Karnstein, heir to The Morgan hospitality empire, comes to stay at the hotel as a permanent guest.

Exiled is the more precise term really, due to some scandal or other, if the amount of broken-hearted female guests endlessly ringing the receptionist's desk to beg for "Carmy's" room number is anything to go off of.

The only other thing the insufferable heiress seems to take pleasure in is needling Laura endlessly.

One day, after a deadly quiet phone conversation that most of the hotel was listening in on, Carmilla goes over to the candy bar and slumps down onto the counter.

"So, that sounded not great."

"But I so had it coming, didn't I?" Carmilla bites back and then sighs. “This generation doesn’t understand obligation."

“Hate to break it to you Carmilla, but we’re from the same generation. Besides, only child of a massively overprotective dad?” Laura nudges her. “I know what it’s like not to live up to expectations.”

“My mother cut me off. Everything is frozen. I am officially stuck here forever."

A retort about how that'll allow her to screw every female guest staying at the hotel dies on Laura's lips when she looks at her face. Carmilla is an asshole, but even she should never look that sad.

Handing Carmilla her favorite chocolate bar is a premeditated gesture, but the words "Do you want to crash at my place?" kind of just come tumbling out.

The way her face lights up makes her not regret saying it.

 

What does make her regret saying it:

"Alright, so first lesson in Being Poor 101," Laura says as they stand at the foot of the bed in the Hollis guest room. "Strip and make the bed."

"Well, if that's what poor people do..." Carmilla slowly pulls off her top, exposing miles of ivory skin, and the way that she maintains eye contact throughout proves that she is some sort of nudist demon sent to ruin Laura's life.

Her mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out.

 _I hate her_ , Laura thinks. _She is the worst. She just got here and has already clogged the shower drain, insulted all of my friends, and stole my cookies._

 _She's wearing a lacy black bra, and is super hot_ , her brain helpfully points out.

"What's wrong, creampuff? Cat caught your tongue?" Kissing the infuriating smirk off of Carmilla’s mouth is a new and incredibly appealing idea.

“Girls, you doing alright up there?” Laura's father calls from the foot of the stairs.

“Just great, Dad!” Laura squeaks out.

 _Boss's boss's boss's boss's daughter_ , Laura reminds herself. Even if they're estranged, she's heard horror stories about the ruler of the Morgan conglomerate. "The bed. Strip the bed. And put on new sheets."

Carmilla looks disappointed, but she (thankfully) puts her shirt back on. "Your loss, cutie.”

Laura rolls her eyes and pointedly ignores her comment as she helps her make the bed.

“Hey girls, just wanted to see how--Laura! Sweetie, your face should not be that red. You must’ve caught a fever from the hotel, I knew this would happen! I’ll call Dr. Simon.”

“No, Dad, I’m fine,” Laura grits out, trying to wiggle out of her father’s iron grip on her face.

Carmilla is nearly bent over, snickering into the sheet for the pillow that Laura is now planning to smother her with.

She hits her with the other pillow instead, five mortifying, WEbMD minutes later when her dad finally leaves. It’s square in the face and Carmilla pauses to touch her jaw.

Carmilla’s lips slowly curl into a bloodthirsty grin, and she gets in one good unexpected uppercut on Laura before it turns into a full-scale pillow melee.

It takes most of dinner to convince her dad they weren’t dying of scarlet fever.

 

* * *

"Okay, so I think we all learned from yesterday that bellhop is not the right career for you," Laura says, crossing it off her list. "How about being a maid?"

“I don't clean.”

“That's an understatement," Laura mutters. "The kitchens?”

“I can't cook.”

“Waitress?”

“Do I look like a broke actress deluded with dreams of stardom to you?”

“A bike messenger!” Laura says, throwing up her hands. “You could go around delivering packages, on a motorcycle, and you could still wear your leather pants--”

“Would you like that?” Carmilla says as she flips through her magazine.

Laura splutters and is spared having to answer that question when Kirsch comes bouncing over.

“Tiny hottie!” He bellows cheerfully, holding out his hands. Carmilla sighs, puts down her magazine and does the most complicated secret handshake Laura has ever seen. There are finger guns involved.

After a rousing behind-the-back pattycake finale, Carmilla picks up her magazine and acts like nothing happened.

“Did you and Kirsch...bond?” 

“Bellbro has his uses after all,” Carmilla says, shrugging. “Guess you're stuck with me, cutie.”

Laura puts her head down on the counter and groans.

 

A typical customer interaction with Carmilla helping her work the counter goes a little something like this:

“Hello, what can I get you?”, Laura says, her voice cheery and her smile the proper amount of customer service.

“Toblerone,” the customer says, but they’re not looking at the candy.

“Coming right up!” Laura rings them up and waits a beat, before elbowing Carmilla. “Carm! C’mon!”

Carmilla sighs, and grabs the candy bar, handing it to the customer like it’s a Herculean effort. She pulls her hand back and brushes past Laura’s arm, and well, maybe her cheeks redden a little, but it’s not  _that_ noticeable.

Carmilla leans against the counter and pulls out her book, but Laura can definitely see her smirking. Urgh.

 

* * *

Laura wasn’t being nosy.

It was just that Perry had spontaneously burst into tears and rushed into the bathroom, leaving her laptop unattended with an email open on the screen.

As her friend, it was Laura’s duty to find out was upsetting her so much.

She reads _regrettably_ and _closure of the Silas property_ before righteous indignation overtakes her.

 

Laura finds Carmilla outside near the lake, on one of the lounge chairs, attempting to sun. She sits down across from her.

"They're going to shut down the hotel."

"How tragic," Carmilla deadpans.

“You seem rather unsurprised,” Laura says, arms crossed.

“Have you seen this place?” Carmilla gestures carelessly to the rotting dock. “It’s a wonder Mother hasn’t shut it down earlier.”

“Carmilla.” 

“Cupcake.”

“I know you know something about all this. And if I have to tie you up to get it out of you, I will.”

“Kinky,” Carmilla deadpans.

“That’s not what I, you, ugh!” Laura splutters. “You know something!”

“I know a lot of things, Cupcake.”

“I’m not leaving here until I get an answer.”

“Why do you care about this place so much?”

“My friends’ jobs are on the line! This a major employer in my town. And,” she pushes her hair back. “You’ve met my dad. I didn’t get to really go out, much, but this lake is one of the few places he deemed safe enough to take me when I was a kid. Sometimes I’d sneak out and come swim here by myself. We’d go to the hotel restaurant to celebrate my birthday. It’s home.”

Laura laughs and shakes her head at herself. “That must seem so silly to you. You must’ve had like, dozens of houses across the globe, right?”

“Mother does. A cabin in the Alps, an Upper East Side apartment, a chateau in Provence, among others. But they've always just been accommodations is to me.”

“There's got to be somewhere, at least one place, that has felt a bit like home,” Laura presses.

Carmilla slowly runs her fingers over the chair’s fabric. “Three,” she was quietly. “There are three places. Toronto, mainly, but I rarely spend time there.”

“Why? Too busy jet setting?”

Carmilla takes off her sunglasses and sits up, looking at Laura. “Why do you think I’m here? Truly?”

“Err, I figured it had to do with some sort of...scandal or something.”

Carmilla laughs bitterly. “You could call it that.”

Laura scooches closer, and Carmilla takes a deep breath. “If there’s one thing that my mother taught me, it’s that everything comes with a price. Sure, I had nice things and traveled the world, but growing up, my mother had harsh expectations. Eventually I figured all of it was just training for me to become another one of her assets. I charmed CEOs, did photo ops, and whatever else it took to have CEO’s to let their guard down, right before Mother swooped in for a hostile takeover.”

Laura can’t even imagine her father using her this way. He’d always tried to shield her from the world, not use her as a shield. No wonder Carmilla enjoyed spending time with her dad, besides it usually being embarrassing for Laura.

“I handled any dirty work Mother requested, and for the rest of the time I got to live life as I pleased. Being sent to befriend a potential investor’s daughter was typical. Ell was not.”

Carmilla smiles, but it quickly turns bitter.

“She was bright, funny. We were the toast of Berlin. I asked her to run away with me. The day we were to depart, I stood in the airport, waiting for her. The hours dragged by, with no word from her, until I received this text.”

Carmilla pulls out her phone and opens up a chat conversation, with the contact name simply _E._

_you lied to me_

“I looked up, and there was Mother.”

Her grip tightens on the phone.

“Needless to say the merger didn’t go through, but I knew better to leave any evidence, and Mother’s army of lawyers protected the company from any fallout," Carmilla says, pocketing her phone. “As punishment Mother has been sending me to be the last pretense before shutting down Morgan properties. I didn’t feel like sending in my approval for here, so she cut me off. It didn’t delay her that much, but. There can be great satisfactions in small revenges.”

“That’s it? That’s your entire plan after your mom ruined your life? Not turn in your freaking paperwork? Carm, you can do better. We can do better. I’m not going to let her get away with this.”

“Corporations and governments have tried. You really think you can stand a chance against her?”

“It’s worth trying. This hotel deserves better. You deserve better.” Laura stands up. “We are going to save this hotel!”

 

 

Laura has sent out forty tweets, a strongly worded email to The Morgan customer service, and organized a protest by the time her father gets wind of the news.

He finds her in the hotel lobby, holding a livestreamed protest.

“Silas for service! Silas for service!”

“Laura Eileen Hollis! Did you pick a fight with a multibillion-dollar corporation?”

Laura freezes. “One moment”, she says to the camera, and turns off the stream. Laura turns around to face her dad. “They want to shut this place down!”

“I mean, they should. People have died here,” Carmilla says.

“It was a fire, and that was like, a hundred years ago!”

Carmilla sighs, reclining further into the lobby couch she had beelined for when it became apparent she wouldn’t have to pretend to do work. “Is she always like this?” Carmilla asks him.

“You have no idea. One time, when she was eight--”

“Dad!” Laura squeaks. She takes a calming breath. “I can’t just let this go. This place is our home, and we have to fight for it. For our friends. I won’t let someone like Lilita Morgan ruin people’s lives just for fun.”

She’s enveloped in a large bear hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” Her dad says gruffly. “I’m going to go get some tweezers, for splinters. And a lawyer.”

He leaves, and Laura turns away to discreetly wipe the tears from her eyes.

Carmilla carelessly flips to the next page in her book.

“What do you think?” Laura asks, sinking down next to her.

“Oh, this is clearly doomed,” Carmilla says, without looking up. “Your only arguments are sentimental nonsense that will never appeal to my mother. But hey, when has that stopped you before?”

Laura smiles. “Thanks. And Carm?”

“Yes?”

“What was the third place? I'm guessing Berlin was the second place that felt like home, but the third?”

Carmilla finally looks up at Laura and shakes her head. “You’ll figure it out.” She closes the book and walks out of the lobby.

“Carmilla, wait! You're still on the clock!”

 

“Well, it’s day six of our attack, and we’ve still got nothing.”

“Nada,” Laf adds.

“Oh look, Laura! The official Morgan twitter blocked you. That has to count for something, right?” Perry says, eyes frantic.

Carmilla rolls out her eyes, and pulls out her phone. “This is pathetic,” she mutters.

A minute later, all of their phones ding.

_So pleased to be staying at @MorganHospStyria. The beautiful and historic property showcases our world-class commitment to hospitality. #morganhotels_

Attached is a picture Laura had taken when she had hijacked Carmilla’s fancy, non-flip phone phone.

They were down by the lake and Laura had taken a ridiculous number of grotesque selfies before she accidentally flipped the camera.

Laura had nearly gasped when she saw the screen. It was almost sunset and Carmilla was looking out at the See, a rare smile upon her lips as the sun dazzled behind her.

Laura had quickly snapped a couple of photos. She didn't even know that Carmilla had seen them.

It's posted on every social media handle Carmilla has, and in just a few minutes the numbers are rapidly approaching the thousands, with the comments ranging to the heart eyes to the somewhat obscene.

Laura looks up from her phone.

They all stare at Carmilla, who looks unperturbed.

“Well, this is a Buzzfeed article waiting to happen,” Laf deadpans.

 

They don’t have to wait long for the fallout. Barely two days later, Laura’s in the middle of making protest material when Lafontaine looks up.

“Either I’m hallucinating after making one too many signs, or the head of a multinational corporation is currently headed our way,” they say.

Laura whips around so fast she nearly knocks herself off balance. Indeed, Carmilla’s mom is advancing right towards her, Perry hovering around her and holy crap is she six feet of middle age glamazon. Forget about scooping out her eyeballs, she could probably evaporate Laura with a single glare.

“I’ll say real nice stuff at your funeral, L. Per will definitely get a tasteful flower arrangement.”

“Mother,” Carmilla says, appearing out of thin air to narrowly and deftly intercept her.

“Mircalla,” Ms. Morgan says, evaluating her daughter coolly. “Dear, I think it’s time for us to have a chat.”

Carmilla juts her chin up in defiance, and follows her mother to the elevator.

“Perry, where is Carmilla taking her?”

“Oh, probably to Carmilla’s room, so they can speak privately.”

“Carmilla’s room? What _room_?”

“Why, the one she has here, of course, her mother’s a piece of work, but it’s not like she’d kick her out of the hote--”

“If she survives that meeting, I am going to kill her,” Laura grits out.

 

The meeting lasts exactly two episodes of Gilmore Girls.

Laura knows this because Mel lures her in the break room with freshly baked cookies and a laptop, mostly to stop her from spamming everyone's Twitter feed.

By the time Christopher comes roaring into Stars Hollow, the hotel is saved.

The hotel is saved, and all of her friends get to keep their jobs, but.

Carmilla leaves.

Carmilla leaves without saying goodbye.

She doesn't even get to see her _go_ , just watches Perry come in from a back entrance, no moguls in sight, and, well.

Laura doesn’t have to be Veronica Mars to get the hint.

She lasts an hour into her shift, until someone asks for a Toblerone. She ends up sobbing into it instead.

 

Carmilla doesn’t post anything on social media.

Well she does, but it’s all the sorts of stuff she posted before coming to Silas, weird and slightly creepy pictures of fancy hotels and famous friends, and it drives Laura up the wall.

Had Silas never mattered to her? Had _Laura_ never mattered to her?

Laura unfollows her on all social media platforms.

It doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a start.

 

Summer’s winding down, but the number of guests at the hotel has increased tenfold after all the hullabaloo. On one uncharacteristically slow day, Laura is refilling candy and counting down the minutes until she can clock out.

“Hey.”

Laura jumps at the familiar voice, and throws the Lindt bar she had just been about to restock.

Carmilla dodges it, and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Really?”

“He--hello, Ms. Karnstein. What brings you back to Silas?”

““Well, considering I own the hotel now, it was probably time for me to check up on it.”

“You own..? Wow, that’s amazing Ca--I mean, congratulations, Ms. Karnstein.” Laura goes back to restocking the candy counter.

“I also wanted to know why I seem to have one less follower across all my social media accounts.”

“Well you don’t follow anyone on anything.  And maybe you didn't even say goodbye that follower, and send her a text even though that follower knows you have some sort of amazing unlimited data plan, and given all of your new posts, your Instagram seems to be working just fine.”

“Laura.” Carmilla is now standing behind the counter with her, getting closer by the second. “I needed to sign the contracts and have this go through first. If my mother had known the real reason I’d agreed to this, she’d--”

“--And you standing up to your mother was seriously impressive and I know you didn't just do it for me but I just--”

“Laura. That third home?” Carmilla cups her face gently. “It’s you.”

Carmilla’s lips stop her babbling, and Laura squeals, drawing her closer.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, wow, look! A hotel room! That you had! For months! And didn’t tell me!” Laura says, gesturing around Carmilla’s suite with a nearly empty champagne flute.

It had taken them forever to find the time and suitable excuses to Laura’s dad, but all the effort is worth it. The room is large, they’re alone, and Carmilla had swiped a bottle of champagne from the restaurant.

“Are you still mad about that?” Carmilla asks, wrapping her arms around Laura’s waist.

“Yes! The hotel robes are super fluffy, Carm. I could’ve had some quality breaks up here! And this is probably where you sneaked off to every time you pulled that disappearing act of yours.”

“Guilty as charged,” Carmilla says, looking anything but guilty as she plucks the glass from Laura’s hand and sets it down on the desk. “Quality breaks huh? I’ve heard the new boss is rather demanding, but maybe something can be arranged.”

“Good, cause I also have demands,” Laura says, wrapping her arms loosely around Carmilla’s neck.

“Oh, such as?” Carmilla pulls her in closer and arches a brow.

Any actual complaints die on her lips as Carmilla’s teeth lightly graze her collarbone, followed by her tongue. Now, the only thought that is going through Laura’s mind is that they’re wearing too many clothes.

“Strip. Now,” Laura manages to get out, clawing at Carmilla’s shirt.

“If you insist, cutie,” Carmilla says, not as airily as she probably intended, and breaks out of her grasp.

Carmilla trails a hand carelessly up her shirt and curves her back towards the bed, twisting her body in a way that makes Laura's breath hitch.

Carmilla turns and runs her fingers along the sheets, and rips them off.

It takes Laura a moment in her lust-fueled haze to realize Carmilla is ripping them _all off_.

“You are the worst!” Laura cries as she tackles her onto the bed.

“I was just following orders,” Carmilla laughs, because her girlfriend is a huge jerk. “You really need to be more specific.”

“You, strip, your clothes,” Laura says as she takes her top off.

“With pleasure,” Carmilla murmurs, and pulls Laura back down.

All in all, Laura’s employee satisfaction increases tenfold under the new management.


End file.
